Today has been what Stephen Fry would call quite interesting. And not just because it's included a round of general ignorance. In fact, I've been experiencing minor mysteriousness since yesterday, and today has just continued in that vein.
I like to think it all started yesterday lunchtime, when I bought a SpongeBob SquarePants Playstation game for £1 from a Burgess Hill charity shop. We haven't actually used our Playstation 2 since Toby was born, on the grounds that 'Manhunt' and 'Hitman: Blood Money' might have a negative effect on him. We're worried he'll start asking us for a Xbox One. So I'm not sure what possessed me yesterday, other than an overwhelming desire to treat my daughter and spend no more than a pound.
As it happens, I also wanted to light up Lisa's life. So I stopped off at the Hollingbury Asda on the way home to buy her a bedside lamp. Whilst at my parents' last weekend, I bought a very nice touch lamp from the Hastings branch of Asda which was reduced from £12 to £8 in their post-Christmas sale. Since getting it home, Lisa's been coveting it from the other side of the bed, and has become so desperate to have one of her own that I would have happily driven all the way back to Hastings just to stop her whining.
Unfortunately, I'd bought the last one in the shop. And there was no way I was giving her mine. So I thought I'd check out the local branches instead. And sure enough, they had some. For only £3. Now, I'm not sure if this is some kind of mistake, but Lisa's spent the past week saying how lovely my lamp is, and that it was a complete bargain for only eight quid, but at Hollingbury last night, they had about a dozen of them for £3 each. So I bought two. Frankly I was tempted to buy five, but I thought they might be a fire hazard.
Naturally Lisa was pleased. But not as pleased as Amelie, who wiped the thick layer of dust off the Playstation, and promptly fell in love with SpongeBob. Not only did she play that game until she went to bed last night, but I was there at 7:30am this morning, making myself late for work by helping her to drive a giant Krabby Patty through Shell City before the time ran out.
So that was odd. But not as odd as the giant insect bite which appeared on my arm last night. I was under the impression that Britain's flying carnivores had all gone south for the winter, but some kind of hardy mosquito appears to have eaten me alive during the evening.
The resulting itching was quite annoying, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that a slight itch would seem like nothing once the malaria kicked in. And sure enough, we appear to have been struck down with something hideous this evening.
I popped home at lunchtime today, and as I left to return to work, our friend Lorraine arrived with her two children. Naturally I wished her a happy new year by kissing her tenderly on the cheek, which would have been fine, had she not just walked through a brief downpour, which was playing havoc with her skin products. I ended up with a mouthful of moisturiser, and spent the journey back to work wiping my lips with my sleeve just to get rid of the taste.
My afternoon was weird, as most of my patients failed to turn up, and I ended up seeing three instead of the usual seventy-eight (give or take), but within half an hour of getting home, things took a turn for the weirder. Out of the blue, Amelie suddenly had an upset stomach, and within fifteen minutes, I started feeling sick myself.
Lisa, who's nothing if not brutally unsympathetic, told me I was imagining it, used the word 'psychosomatic', and asked me to tidy the flat. Twenty minutes later, she was throwing up in a bucket.
So it's all a bit strange. I've never known three people to suddenly go down with the same illness within half an hour of each other, but somehow we've managed it. Toby appears to be fine, but apparently he ate some of Lorraine's rum-soaked fruit cake without anyone realising, so he's probably too drunk to care.
The tragedy is that I'd planned to treat Lisa to something unconventional this weekend. I'd agreed to look after the children while she spends two days at the Hilton Metropole. Unfortunately she's been in bed with a bucket since 6pm. And she hasn't touched a drop. The best laid plans of mice and men...
Friday, January 03, 2014
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1 comments:
Oh dear! Well, at least I don't THINK I can be held responsible for your mystery illnesses. I hope they disappear as quickly as they came. Mosquitos do thrive in the rainy season I believe, so.......
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